First of all I want to thank all of you SO MUCH for reading
liliandra nadiar: Haha, don't worry. I know every last inch of Tara's backstory so Jads's dissapearance will be explained... eventually
Grits: I love the relationship between Tara and Willow in BtVS, and it was perfect ispiration for my girl(s). haha. I love the idea of literally not being able to live without your soulmate
Athynae: Yes, Tara's story isn't a happy one to start with. Hopefully things will pick up for her soon

and yes, he did need more than a good slap! But i don't think Jada was expecting a retaliation!
Acadian: Ahh yes, the witchmen of Farrun. Well Tara's path might not QUITE go down that path, but we'll see. Lol.
SubRosa: I'm so pleased that the story has left you with questions; much like Tara felt in that respect. and thank you kindly for your nits

I'm so used to writing for novels I didn't think! DOn't worry, It will be edited
King Coin: Haha, Isn't her dad the sweetest guy?
mALX: Well, I wouldn't call him a necromancer EXACTLY, he is just more into the dark side of Mysticsism; although he does possess alot of necromancery behavior
McBadgere: I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and I'm glad you have questions i hope can be answered!

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0.2 ~ Prologue
3E 413 ~ Farrun, High RockJada held Tara in her arms, Tara’s tiny hand gripping her finger. Jada smiled, leaning to kiss her daughter on the forehead. She looked Tara in the eyes; those beautiful hazel eyes that made her heart flutter with pride. She never believed in a million eras that she would conceive something so… perfect.
Not before long, an anxious Riccard walked into their bedroom. He glared at Jada as she scurried over to the basinet, placing Tara softly inside.
“I thought I told you not to hold her?” He said. “We cannot have you getting too attached to her.”
Jada looked at him with a scowl. She walked over to the dresser a pulled out a blanket before going back to Tara and placing it on her gently.
“You cannot seriously believe that I’m going along with this sick plan of yours, Riccard.”
“There’s nothing sick about it, Jada,” He informed her with an eerie precision. “I’ve told you before…”
“Yes, you’ve told me, and it is utterly preposterous. ‘All the women in the Willow family line have the power to absorb the spirits of their foes into their own bodies to temporarily enhance their own magicka’; do you even understand how absurd that sounds?” Jada objected.
She walked over to the bedroom window, drawing the curtains eliminating any light from the room before heading to the bedroom door. Riccard moved slightly and blocked the doorway; blocking her exit.
“You know this is important to me, this is my life’s work!”
“NO Riccard! No! You have created this… fantasy over an unproven family legend! You can’t expect me to allow you to use our two month old daughter for your… experiments!”
Riccard slowly closed in on Jada. His silhouette in the darkened room was daunting.
“Exactly, Jada; She is OUR daughter. Not just yours. I have as much right to say what her purpose in life will be as you do.”
Jada looked at him in disbelief; horror, even.
“Who are you? What happened to the man I married?”
“I’m the same man my dear, nothing has changed.”
“YOU WANT TO KILL OUR DAUGHTER!” Jada bellowed.
Suddenly Tara unleashed an almighty scream as Jada’s outburst had woken her. Jada walked over to her daughter and picked her up, shushing her as she held her to her chest. Jada looked up at Riccard; hate in her eyes.
“You are not going to use our daughter for your experiment. That is the end of it.” She proclaimed.
She took Tara and headed past Riccard out of the bedroom. Riccard grabbed Jada’s arm; a grip Jada easily escaped from.
“You will realise sooner or later that this is the right thing to do.” He informed her in an educated fashion.
“And what if I leave? Take her away?”
Riccard smirked, “I think you know what’ll happen if you do that, don’t you?”
Jada glared at him one last time before walking downstairs. Riccard looked after her with the smirk remaining firmly in place.
3E 419 ~ Farrun, High Rock“Riccard, please, come down and celebrate!” Jada begged. Riccard remained sat at his desk, uninterested in celebrating his daughters sixth birthday.
Jada knew he wasn’t interested, so she decided that instead of pestering him further she would just proceed back to the party.
“Mother! When is father coming down?” Tara asked as her mother approached the living room. Jada smiled.
“In a little while sweetie.” She replied, gently kissing her on the forehead.
Jada walked over to a small table by the fireplace where her friends Mildred and Aleksander were sat drinking ale. Jada sat on a seat between them.
“This is a great party Jada!” Mildred congratulated. “All the children seem to be having such fun!”
Jada looked over at Tara. Watching her play with her friends for some reason left a tear in her eye.
“Is Riccard not coming down?” Aleksander asked. Jada shook her head.
“No. He’s… busy.”
She suddenly stood up and gazed up at Riccard’s office. She had decided that she was going to make one last attempt to bring Riccard down.
“Actually, bear with me; I’ll be back in a minute.” She said to her friends before heading back upstairs, storming into Riccard’s study.
“You need to come down. Now.” Jada ordered her husband, who was still uninterested.
“The only birthday I’m interested in celebrating is the nineteenth. But you already know that.”
She did, indeed, know that; but she wasn’t happy. She was dying inside knowing what that date would mean for her daughter and being unable to stop it.
She decided to take action now, rather than later as the opportunity had only just arisen. She had always had some form of plan to at least help prevent the events that would occur on Tara's nineteeth birthday, but with Riccard constantly watching her every move, she never had the opportunity to go through with it; untill now.
She silently crept to Riccard’s supply cabinet, opening it slowly to prevent any creaks and took a piece of paper and a quill. She walked over to one of Riccard’s desks, unseen by the man himself, and began to write a note. She stared at Riccard as she folded the finished note, sealed it with wax and slowly edged out of the study and down the stairs.
Once she was downstairs she approached Aleksander and gave him the note.
“It is important that you open this note the day Tara turns nineteen, okay?”
“Um… okay. Sure, I can do that!” Aleksander replied, baffled and slightly confused.
Jada looked over to Tara and smiled. Her mind was slightly at peace. She knew she’d done all she could.
3E 432 ~ Farrun, High RockTara woke up in a post blackout daze. She was lying on a table, she knew that much, but she was strapped down by something. Her arms, her legs and her waist held down by something tight. Her struggle to escape was inevitably futile. She wasn’t going anywhere and she didn’t know why.
However, she knew exactly where she was the moment her eyes began to adjust to her surroundings. The basement.
W-what? What is this? Dad.Despite the fact that she was basically held hostage in her own house, she found it odd how her kidnapper didn’t blindfold her.
Surely they would want to hide their identity?“Tara? Are you awake?”
Tara turned her head to see the blurry image of someone; a male someone. But she didn’t need a picture when the sound was perfect.
“Father?”
She saw the figure walk closer to her. The image becoming clearer as it approached.
“Of course it’s me, who else would it be?”
Tara looked at her captor in disbelief. She could slowly feel the blood drain from her face in fright.
“Father… what… what are you doing?”
“Tara, don’t be so stupid. You know exactly what’s going on here.”
Tara remained silent as her father walked over to a desk at the end of the table she was one. She was terrified.
Mother, please…“You read my journals? Yes?”
Tara said nothing.
“Answer me when I speak to you, Tara.”
Tara didn’t speak, she only nodded. Riccard skirted through some books on his desk as Tara silently wept on her prison. Eventually he spoke up.
“You are going to be a great thing, Tara Willow. You are going to be a revolution in the art of Mysticism.” He informed her, his tone cold and uncaring.
“B-but…”
Riccard looked directly at her. “But, what? Tara?”
“But… I don’t want to. Please father, don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?”
He pondered a moment and then came to a realisation.
“Oh, you mean the bodies under the floor boards? Oh, you misunderstand. Those were simply failed experiments who I managed to deposit souls into, but didn’t survive the ordeal. I have stored them until I find time to extract the souls back out again. That would be a terrible waste, otherwise.”
Tara watched in terror as Riccard pulled something out of a drawer; a black crystal of some kind.
“Is that why mother left? Because she disproved of what you were doing?” Tara asked.
“Partly. But that isn’t any on your concern.”
She watched as he opened a secret door under a rug. He then cast what she recognised as a Soul Trap spell, watching the black crystal glow after the casting. After putting the rug back over the trapdoor, Riccard began to approach Tara.
“Now what I’m about to cast is a spell I’ve created myself. It will stop your body from turning the soul you absorb into magicka. Instead it’ll cause your body, or more correctly your brain, to hold the soul in a permanent existence.”
“W-what? What are you talking about?”
“Basically, this spell will cause a soul to be trapped in your body until it is extracted again. In conclusion, you will be a human soul gem.”
“But… why me?” She asked; her tone pathetic and childish.
Riccard glared at her as if she should have known ‘why’ she had been chosen to fulfil his need.
“It is a well known fact that the Willow women have the skill to absorb souls and turn tem into magicka. Only I plan to change that theory. It’s a risky experiment; but you WERE born for this purpose after all.”
Born for this? Did… did mother know he was going to do this to me?Tara panicked, realising the extent of her father’s madness. She tried desperately to escape her bonds as Riccard slowly placed his hand on her chest.
Riccard readied himself for his spell; his hand glowed a brilliant blue. He didn’t even have any words of comfort for his daughter. He didn’t even hear her beg for her life.